Your Rapture
by Shadow131
Summary: (Sequel to Your Redemption) things seem to be going worse for Javert - now that he's in Heaven - when he finds out he has somehow fathered a daughter. But when the truth that the girl has a debilitating disease comes out, things might be harder for Javert
1. It Takes Two to Tango

**Your Rapture: Chapter One: It Takes Two to Tango**

"Right. Monday morning everyone; time for the weekly meeting."

Javert hated the weekly meeting. He hated it almost as much as the bi-annual chicken dance festival and the monthly Jell-O-Power Stuff-O-Rama. The Stuff-O-Rama he hated most. Little old Lutheran ladies circled and attacked, stuffing him with their banana lime surprise. There was something in that which was definitely not banana or lime, or Jell-O of any kind, and he labeled it as merely the "surprise," and had no desire what so ever to find out what it was.

Javert hated Jell-O.

Of course, everyone else seemed to like it. He'd seen some people eat such mountains of the gelatinous goop he found it amazing they could walk afterwards. But then, everyone liked everything here, including the bi-annual chicken dance festival and the weekly meeting.

Javert took in a deep lungful of the aroma of the coffee cup he was clutching. If there was one thing he did like here, it was the coffee, but that was it. It never got above or below seventy two degrees, it was never cloudy, never rained, you could see the stars perfectly every night, there was ample to do and to see, and he was allowed to come and go as he pleased as a ghost, and he hated it all.

No, not all really...... Her he did not hate, but that was it.

"Right. That's all the news for this week. You are all dismissed to your small groups." Saint Peter banged the gavel against the podium, signaling the close of the meeting, which, once again, Javert had heard not a word of. He just sat in the back, looking glum, and was labeled a pessimist, which suited him fine. He raised the mug of the steaming brew to his lips when-

"GOOD DAY INSPECTOR!" Marius shouted, clapping him on the back, startling him so much, Javert jumped a few feet in the air, the coffee leaping out of the cup, splashing him, and then receding back into the mug, leaving not so much as a stain. Javert clutched at his chest, taking in deep lungfuls of air, twitching, eyes wide in shock.

"Gosh, Javert, think you need to cut back on the caffeine?"

"I don't need it! I'm fine! I can quit anytime I want! I DO NOT HAVE A PROBLEM!" Marius blinked. Javert blinked a few times, regaining himself, before slicking his disheveled hair back. "Anyway, the only reason I jumped is because you snuck up on me. What are you trying to do, kill me?"

"I hate to argue with you, Inspector, but you're already dead," said Fantine, who had dragged up a chair, staking this out as the small group meeting place.

"And you could hear dear Marius from a block away!" Cosette interceded, sitting down next to her mother.

"Alright, all of you. Enough of this fighting. Chief Inspector, please take your seat," Valjean said, a pad of paper and a pen in hand. Javert sat down, and Marius playfully stuck his tongue out at his back side. "You too, Marius," Valjean said warningly.

"Yes sir," he grumbled, sitting down next to Cosette.

The small groups were established by God, not only to try and nit Javert in and make him one of the pack, but they also had a practical purpose and every soul was in one. Each group was given five miracles for the week and they chose how to disperse them. They named a president and chose a new one at the beginning of each year. Valjean had been named one this year, putting him in charge of guarding the miracles, and writing down all important information.

"To begin," Valjean said, taking his seat and examining his slip of paper. "That little girl in Bangkok we helped out is doing just fine. The patient with AIDS died peacefully in his sleep last night, so that miracle was well spent. You may visit him in initiations....."

Valjean's voice trailed on and on, and Javert had ceased to listen until nine very important words came up. "Oh, and Javert? The Holy Spirit's found your daughter."

Javert sat up, blinking confused while the rest of the group turned and faced him, the looks on their faces almost as equally shocked as he was, and they were longing for details. Frankly, so was he. Daughter? What daughter? Since when had he had a daughter?

"Chief Inspector? Is there a madam you have not introduced us to yet?" Fantine asked slowly.

"Mrs. Javert..... Hm, no, it doesn't have a very nice ring to it, does it?" Cosette pondered.

"Cosette!" Valjean scolded.

"No, Mrs. Pontmercy is much better," said Marius, snuggling his wife in his arms.

"Agreed," she said with a giggle.

"I beg your pardon, but my last name on any female personage is hardly relevant!" Javert said, looking extremely upset. "How in hell do I have a daughter?"

"Well you see Inspector," Marius began, "when a man loves a woman-"

"Shut up!" Javert said, waving his arms at him to be quiet. "I know how it goes!"

"Apparently not well enough, because it takes two to tango," said Cosette.

"Honest, I have no idea how this possibly could have happened! I've never slept with anyone in my life! My whole principle was based on chastity!"

"I know how it happened," Valjean said solemnly. "Because you didn't sleep with a woman. You slept with a dog. A bitch, if you prefer the proper term."

All eyes turned once more and looked at Javert, who had gone slightly googly eyed. The faces watched him with expressions of mild disgust written on them, as though they'd found out what the "surprise" of the banana lime Jell-O was, and it was something slimy and disgusting, like a sardine, and when freshly caught looked at you with tiny beady yellow eyes saying "No, don't kill me! I have places to go, people to see, small little eggs to lay that will eventually be used as trout bait, and must continue living in my own toilet!"

"Wow, Inspector, that's kind of a kinky way to get your kicks," Marius said, his tongue hanging out slightly as though at any moment one of those "surprises" might come swimming out of his mouth.

"Marius, don't be crude!" Cosette scolded, hitting him upside the head.

Javert gave a small gurgling noise before promptly fainting.

...

P.O.V.

Brianna

New York City

Present Day: 2005

There are times when I can almost here my mother calling me, but these times are few and far between. Mostly, the only callings I hear are those of male dogs, always looking for a bitch to score with, or other females, some with litters, telling me to back off their section of dirt. And if it's been a while since I ate, I hallucinate I see the ghosts of the people buried where I live.

Oh yes, I live in the cemetery. Nice place, cemeteries. Quiet, calm, practically deserted. But I'm forced to stay on the louder, more dangerous, less rat infested, and thusly less food infested, part of the cemetery by a local pack of wild dogs that run the rest of the burial ground. A few of the males have hooted and hollered such things as "Hey baby! Bring your sweet tail on over here and join the pack! You're more than welcome!" But then the females are giving me looks of "Don't even think it." Most of the time I just end up ignoring them, nose in the air, like I'm such hot stuff they could only get in their dreams. Besides, my father was purebred.

Or so I imagine. Mother always said so. That's the only way you ever realize you had such a thing as a father, through your mother. No, I have seen a few pairs stay mated for life, but most of the time it's just a bunch of one night stands and fuzzy memories. Once you get your next one nighter you don't even think about the old one. Or so I'm told. Heck, if it wasn't for a mother, some girls could go right ahead and mate with their father, and no one would no the difference. I'm not one for incest, but a few of my rare and occasional friends have no problems with it what so ever. They just go right ahead and breed.

But I'd recognize my father.

At least I think so. It's nice to pretend to. See him, and know him, and say "Hello, my name's Brianna, and I'm your daughter." And he'd say "Yes, I know. Whatever happened to your mother? She was the loveliest dog I've ever seen, and we were going to be pairs for life, but we got separated. I've been looking for you for a long time, Brianna."

Of course that's ridiculous. How on earth would he know my name, and it is very unlikely that a purebred, pet dog would stick around with some mutt like my mother.

Oh, but she was pretty! I don't think there was another dog prettier than my mother in the course of history. Or at least, I don't think there was a crossbreed, half-starved mutt ever prettier than my mother. I wonder if my father thought so......

Mother had told me the story so many times, it's a wonder it isn't burned into my brain, like a tattoo. Maybe it is. I'd roll my eyes into the back of my head and see, but it doesn't work. I've tried.

My mother, her name was Colette, was some sort of mix of collie and retriever, with a few other breeds mixed in. Unless you go way back, it's normally impossible to find anyone in anyone's pedigree that's pure bred.

But mother said he was.

Mother always wanted to be one of those fine, elegant Collies that had the talcum powder fluffed into the white part of their feathering to make them even whiter. The kind that sat at the feet of old ladies and looked elegant, maybe with a string of pearls, or diamonds around her neck, named something unimaginative, like Missy, because what else would an old lady name such a dog? She'd be the kind with the perfect pedigree, with the loveliest puppies, and all that.

Mother used to say I was the loveliest puppy, when it was just the two of us. My bother and sister died when they were little, and I hardly remember them. I was the only one that lived. And mother called me the most beautiful puppy there ever was, and that I had my father's ears (if she really even remembered what they looked like), and one day, some purebred male would pick me out the way one did my mother.

She never knew his name. She was lying in an alleyway, trying to sleep, when down the street came the nosiest dog she'd ever seen! Even though she could tell in the lamp light he was ebony black, he looked gray and paled, as though he'd seen a ghost. He looked behind him, his eyes wide in fright, quickly skidded down the alleyway, knocked into the garbage can, frightening him even more, and knocked against the brick wall.

She said he was purebred, not that he was graceful.

She stood up, staring inquisitively, and gave him a sniff. "Hello?" she had asked him.

He jumped back again, and there, flashing in the lamp light, was a collar! A real one! It was leather, with a brass buckle and everything! It even had tags with his name on it! She recognized the letters, but could not put them into words, but she told me what the letters were so many times that, should I ever know how to read, that will be the first thing I spell! They went C-O-J-A-C-K. I'm sure it was a lovely name.

He was a black German shepherd.

"Who are you?" he stuttered, backing even closer against the wall.

"My name's Colette. What's yours?" she answered.

"I'm... I'm not exactly sure..." he said, looking around, as though he were looking for a way to escape.

"Oh dear, you hit your head harder than I thought..."

"No, you see, I'm not supposed to be here. There's this girl, and she gave me this collar, and she changed my name, and it's the third name I've gotten in the last forty eight hours, so I'm a little confused, and– "

"Hush," she said comfortingly, managing to get closer to him without startling him too much. "Of course you're not supposed to be here. You've got tags. You've got a home."

And then he said....

Oh no! I don't remember what he said! I've begun twirling about in a circle, as though the rest of the story's attached to my tail. What happened then! What happened then! I must remember! I've got to remember! I feel like crying. That story's the only thing I have left of my mother.... And my father. No, no, no! I know it! It's in my brain somewhere!

I begin to scratch my ear, as though this might speed up the thinking process. Remember, remember, remember!

I can't!

It's not fair! It's just not fair! And on top of that, it's begun to rain. I think I'll go to that old alley way. There might still be a cardboard box there to help keep out the rain. It's the alley I was born in. The one my mother met my father in.... At least I think so.... It's been such a long time, I..... I can't really remember.....

**To Be Continued.....**


	2. The Tender Trap

**Your Rapture: Chapter Two: The Tender Trap**

"But....But I don't want to see her!" protested Javert, who was being cruelly shoved and dragged in turns to the edge of heaven.

"Why, might I ask?" Cosette questioned, dragging him closer to the edge.

"Because something bad is bound to happen!"

"Like what?" accused Valjean.

This Javert had to think on. He needed a good, plausible excuse to keep them from hurling him down there in search of his daughter. Hell, he didn't even know what she looked like! "......She won't like me!" Oh yeah, good, plausible. He was toast.

"Oh boo who, you great coward!" Marius shouted sarcastically, pausing a moment to give a friendly wave to Saint Paul on guard duty for the Pearly Gates. The saint waved back, pushing the automatic button that opened the gates. Javert would have thought they'd use a key, or something special like that, but no, modern technology was so much more convenient.

"What?" accused Fantine. "You'll have to do better than that, Chief Inspector." She waved to Paul as well, signaling to put them into transformation. A soft whirlwind covered them, and they all began to change into dogs.

"Sure! Tons of people don't like me! You don't like me, do you, Valjean!" he said, begging for a little help here.

"Now that's a stupid question, and you know, Javert!" the Golden Retriever ahead of him, dragging him by the scruff of Javert's black, fuzzy neck with his teeth accused.

"Marius, please tell me you don't like me!"

The black Labrador, Marius, who just loved giving Javert a hard time, affectionately pinched his cheek and cooed in baby talk "But of course I like you Javert! I just love you!" The word "Love" was pronounced "Wuv" just to annoy him. Fantine and Cosette, a Vizsla mix of some sort and a Collie, glared down at him.

"Don't even try it."

"Javert," Cosette added encouragingly, into positive feed back, not negative. "Tons of people like you. I like you just fine! You're like family to us!"

"Yeah, you know!" Marius chipped in. "Like an in-law! Annoying as hell, but you gotta love 'em!"

"Marius!" Cosette scolded, hitting him on his head. "You are no such thing, Javert! Don't listen to him!"

"Look," Javert interrupted, not really wanting to hear any more of the mushy junk. "I'm begging you people here. Please don't make me go down there! Tons of dogs are fathers, even the ones up here, and the Holy Spirit doesn't have them tracking their relations all over the globe!"

"Yeah, but Javert!" Valjean told him, "Their relations aren't half human! You can't just have a half human dog running around all over New York City!"

"I don't see why not! She's been doing it for a year, and she's just fine!" he whined.

"Javert, she's running into trouble everyday!" Fantine put it. "She's starting to question the dog world and society, and in a tough place like New York City, that could have her killed!"

"And there's something else, too......" Valjean said, his voice trailing off in worry.

This made Javert look up and stare intently at the Golden Retriever. "What is it?"

"She's very sick Javert. She might be dying."

Javert shriveled up into a small ball, his eyes wide, shaking slightly. "Oh dear Lord."

"This wasn't supposed to happen. Her body's attacking it's self."

Javert shook harder. "Oh God, oh God! I'm killing her!"

"The angels think its cancer, but they don't know. This sort of thing has never happened before."

"She's only mentally ill," Fantine added in. "The physical effects haven't taken hold yet.....She's slowly loosing her entire memory, and that includes instinct."

"It'll be like you when you first set foot in the modern world, only she doesn't know why she's there or where she came from," Marius added solemnly.

"Then...Then I've got to go down, don't I?" Javert said, seeing no other way around it in order to save her.

"We'll be by your side every step of the way," Cosette encouraged.

Javert looked around the circle as they reached the last chunk of swirling mist; the border of Heaven. "Promise?"

"Promise," they all agreed.

...

The four dogs, invisible to the mortal eye, landed gracefully, eyes closed with looks of serenity on their faces as the reached earth. The fifth landed with a "whump!" into a trash can.

Javert was the fifth.

Grumbling, he pulled himself out of a dumpster. After Cosette had calmed him down, Valjean had given him a good hard shove, sending him plummeting toward earth while the others followed in style. Indignantly, Javert joined the others, swishing his tail to express his rage. This was partly because Javert hated it when he had a tail.

Automatically, Javert's head flicked eastward, and he caught himself doing it, and blushing slightly, looked down. Valjean saw him do it, however, and knew exactly what lay east of here.

_Her._

The one whom Javert owed his immortality to. Emily Leroux. Just a few blocks down. That was always, _always_ the German shepherd's first priority: Find out where he was, and see how long it would take for him to get to _her_.

"Not today," he reprimanded himself. "Today, we're here to find my daughter."

His daughter. By God, they were the oddest words anyone could ever have placed in Javert's mouth. Once upon a time they were love and mercy, but now, they were his daughter.

"So how are we going to do this?" Javert asked skeptically. "I mean, I can't just bounce up to her, stick out my hand-"

"Paw," Marius corrected.

"Right, paw. Stick out my paw and say 'Hello! I'm a ghost, which means I'm dead even though I'm your father, and I'm not even really a dog, I was just reincarnated and how are you and what's your name!'" he acted, shouting out everything starting out with "I'm not even really a dog."

"Of course not, silly!" Fantine said, as though that should have been obvious. "She won't be able to see you!"

Javert collapsed onto the side walk as some random person walked right through him and shivered slightly at the sudden cold they felt.

"Since it's a special case, it needs some special help," said Valjean, indicating the little leather bag around his neck. As Group President, he was keeper of the miracles, and the miracles, little orange balls of light, were kept in the plain brown leather bag. "The Lord-" a pause as a chorus of angels gave a brief voice at the sound of the name of the Lord "- was kind enough to give us ten this week instead of the usual five."

Javert was still cringing. He hated it when the angels interrupted sentences like that. But he finally stopped and regained his composure. "So where do we find her?"

"Down ten blocks and take a right into the alley way," Valjean said mater-of-fact-ly. Javert didn't bother to ask how he knew that, he just walked the direction Valjean had pointed.

...

P.O.V

Brianna

New York City

Present Day: 2005

This alley way is like a second home to me. I was born in it, I grew up it, everything happened in it! I must admit I adore the place! My father even met my mother here!

I manage to find and uneaten piece of slightly green meat in the garbage bin, and quickly wolf that down. I'll eat rats if I have to, but all tangles with rats are to be avoided, if at all possible. Those things have sharp teeth.

The rain stops soon enough, and you can sort of see the stars, though everything is still sopping wet. As much as you can ever see the stars in New York City. My stomach as full as it ever is, I settle down in the driest corner I can find and settle in for the night.

That's when it starts.

"This alley?"

"Yup, that looks like it."

I lift my head up. "Who's there?" I call. Nothing. I can't see anyone, and the only thing I smell is a light, sweet sent, sort of like roses. Oh, it's beautiful!

"Well? Aren't you going in?"

"Erm...no."

"Inspector!"

I still can't see anyone, but the voices persist! Am I going crazy?

"Well, I really don't see a problem with not going in!"

"Javert, you're going in there!"

Who is Javert? Who is talking? All these different voices at once! I'm so confused!

"Ow! Okay! Quit shoving!"

"Then get your tail moving!"

"Oh great!" I complain. "First I loose my memory, now I'm going crazy!"

"See! It's definitely her!"

"Oh, come on! How can you tell?"

"Aww, Javert, look! She has your ears."

"Well, your ears when you're a dog anyway."

"What are you all talking about? Wait, what am I talking about, you're not even real! I'm just going nuts!"

"Oh no, you're not nuts!" One of them finally seems to be talking to me. "I mean, I know it seems like that, but we're really here!"

"Then why can't I see you?" I ask.

"Well....we're invisible."

I flick my ear back and look at nothing skeptically. "And this is all proof I'm not going mad?"

"You tell her, Javert! It ought to be you doing it anyway!"

"But I don't want to!" the voice that's obviously this "Javert" person whines.

"Javert! She's your daughter for heaven's sake!"

I stand up at this. "Daughter?" I say breathlessly. Is that what C-O-J-A-C-K spells? Javert?

"Oh fine, just give me one of your miracles, Valjean. I really hate you all for this."

"We love you too inspector-poo!" The one who says this must be hugging Javert or something for he shouts "Get off me, Marius!" and then there is silence. I can hear a whispered prayer, and suddenly a soft breeze that smells exactly like these invisible people do!

And poof!

"Gah!" I cry, and scramble against the wall. Five dogs all staring and smiling at me. Except for the one in the front, who's looking sort of angry yet frightened at the same time.

And he's a pure black German shepherd.

This fact must be pushed aside for a moment. "Where...Where did you all come from?"

"From Heaven, of course!" the Golden Retriever says jovially.

"From Heaven, of course?" I counter, confused. "What are you talking about? There is no Heaven!"

The five pale.

"N...No Heaven?" the black one, Javert, asks confused. "Yes there is. We've just come from there."

"I'd heard that New York strays don't believe in a lot of things, but I never thought it as bad as this....." the chocolate creamish one says, her eye wide with shock.

"What'd' a mean strays? You make us sound like a bunch of side show freaks!"

"No, no, Brianna, calm down, we didn't mean it like that," the collie says.

"Brianna? Her name's Brianna?" Javert asks excitedly.

"Of course my name's Brianna! What else would it be? And I'll have you know my father was pure blo...." My voice trails off, staring at the German shepherd, suddenly remembering.

He looks about awkwardly. "What? Do I have something on my face?" he rubs his nose in attempt to get the nothing off of it.

"My father.... He was pure bred black German shepherd. Those aren't too common among the slums of New York City."

He now gulps and gets nervous. "Oh. That. No, well, you see it's a bit more complicated then that-"

"You're him, aren't you?"

"Well, technically, yes, but-"

I tackle-glomp him. "Oh, I knew you'd come back! This whole long year, I knew you were out there, somewhere, looking and searching for me!"

"No, Brianna, stop, you're not listening to me-"

"Oh, we've got to find my mother! She'll be so happy to see you! I know she ran off with that pit bull, but what's a pit bull to a German shepherd! She'll want to be your mate in a heart beat!"

"Mate? Woah, whoa, now hold on a second! Brianna, it's not going to work like tha-"

"Not going to work like that, what are you talking about? Of course it's going to work like that! I've planned it since I was two moths old!"

"Get off!" he shouts and the black Labrador drags me off.

"Marius, you can sometimes be a godsend," he says to the Lab, Marius.

"Well, don't expect it to stay like that."

He got up and shook himself off, taking one hard look at me, and turning back to the Collie. "Do you really think she has my ears, Cosette?"

Cosette the Collie nods her head. "Not the same color of course, but they're the exact same shape!"

The Golden Retriever laughed. "Trust a woman to notice."

Solemnly, Javert turns back to me. "Things aren't going to be like you planned, Brianna. Not by a long shot."

Nervously, I ask "Why not?"

"Because, well..... It's for a lot of reasons really," he answers, beginning to pace back and forth across the wet pavement.

"We are dead, Brianna," the Golden Retriever says.

I pale. "I'm dead too?"

"No, Valjean didn't quite word it right," the creamy female answers. "Only the five of us-"

"Marius-" they begin to number themselves off, each saying their own name.

"Cosette-"

"Valjean-"

"Javert-"

"And myself, Fantine, are dead. We lived two hundred years ago, and we all died two hundred years ago. We've been in Heaven, living with God all this time."

"But there isn't a God!" I protest. "And how can he-" I gesture to Javert "-be my father if he lived two hundred years ago.

Javert sighs and slumps against a wall, completely disheartened, it seems.

Valjean also sighs. "It gets a bit more complicated than that."

"You see, Brianna," continues Cosette, "all souls, no matter their species, when they come down to earth, come down as dogs, regardless."

"But," I say with a laugh, "then he could be anything! And he's clearly a dog!"

"No, Brianna," Javert says darkly, his yellow eyes fixing on me with a cold, frightened, dead look to them. "I am not a dog."

"Not...not a dog?" I say confused. "But that's impossible!"

"Not so impossible, it would seem," says Marius darkly.

"Javert was a human," Fantine says, going on with the story. "A human man who went mad with confusion and – correct me if I'm wrong inspector, but – I believe a little grief as well." Javert glares coldly at Fantine, who ignores him and continues. "He threw himself into the swelling tide of the Seine River. I wouldn't expect you to know where that is. And he drowned in it."

"So that is why he is dead. But how is he still my father if he's a human? Surely he can't impregnate as a ghost!"

Javert shudders at the words.

"No, he can't," Marius says, picking up the story line. "But things get far more complex than that. Javert was almost condemned to Hell for committing his own death, but our good Lord took pity on him and gave him a second chance."

"Reincarnation," Javert breathes. "A hell unto it's self."

"It's no less or more than you deserved!" Cosette snaps! "Insanity is no excuse!"

Javert remains motionless against the wall, not responding to the brief show of anger.

"But God reincarnated him into a dog in the modern world, and after being adopted," Valjean said, breaking the tense silence, "Well, I'm afraid I don't know how you impregnated anyone beyond that," he says, turning to the ghostly Javert.

...

Javert could see it all again. That first, awful, hell of a night with _her_. He didn't love her then. He hated her. Hated being indebted to that stupid, foolish girl! Why had she chosen him? Why must he get his immortality from her?

And what was he so afraid of about her? What was it that he wanted to escape from?

Love. It was love. He was afraid of being openly, unconditionally loved. He didn't know how to respond to it.

So he ran.

By that point, he'd already been given that dratted collar, which now he'd love to wear again. She never knew that it didn't take him long to figure out how to unlock the door, because, after all, clever he may be, but he was only a dog.

She never knew.

He wasn't really thinking about running away. That seemed like a stupid idea. He just wanted to run _around_. Being in the skin of a dog was new and in some ways, exhilarating, until he realized how very drastically the world had changed since his death.

And he was only a dog.

That's when he'd gone charging down the alley way, trying to figure things out. And that's where the bitch had been lying. It was frightening and strange, but her odd, soothing words and her smooth, velvety voice had been so calm and delicious to the sound.

As odd as it was for him, only instinct seemed to rule in his slightly organized panic. And he liked it. He liked responding to spur of the moment thoughts and feelings. And the ruling one now was what drove her to him as well. Hers was because she wasn't fixed and in heat and wanting to mate to produce, not that she was particularly fond of producing, it was just in her genetic makeup. She wanted him.

And he wanted her.

Looking back on it, Javert could kick himself. What an idiot he was. Dogs weren't like people. They didn't have sex simply for the pleasure of it. They did it for a specific reason and purpose that seemed to have been lost somewhere in humanities reasons for the reproduction act. Did he never stop to think that when dogs mated, the female generally became pregnant? No, he had not. He had dove on in and, to his furious embarrassment (had he not had fur, he would have blushed at the memory) thoroughly enjoyed himself.

Damn.

Even so, it was all over well before dawn, so he snuck back "home," and promptly forgot it all, though he would not have said no to repeating the act, and should his mind ever wander (it never did. His was a steely mind with a set course) he might have thought that such things might even be better in human flesh.

Now Javert leaned his head back against the brick wall and closed his eyes. He sucked in a breath and let the next words he said really sink in:

"Good God. I've fathered a child."

**To Be Continued.....**


	3. The Way Things Are

**Your Rapture: Chapter Three: The Way Things Are**

**A.N.: Apparently, according to my constant listener and best bud, Charlene, I've turned Marius into my friend Andy. Good God, she's right. Beware all, for mayhem will ensue! Muahaha!**

Not knowing what else to say to the ecstatic Brianna, they bid goodbye and were about to head back up to heaven when Javert's voice popped up nervously.

"Well, erm, you see, it really does seem pointless to come all the way down here without staying just a bit longer. Couldn't we just, um, look around for a bit? He he?"

Valjean sighed and rolled his eyes at Javert's terrible attempt at a cover up.

"Of course will go see Mademoiselle Leroux if that's what you want!" he exclaimed.

"That's not what I said!" Javert shouted, blushing furiously.

"No, but it's what you meant. Now come, let us be off!"

They ran through the night, graceful and silent, invisible to any but a medium or a fellow spirit. Even if he was trying to act nonchalantly about his visit to his former mistress, Javert out-distanced them all as he ran, a powerful black figure, becoming a silhouette against the neon lights of the city.

When they finally did reach the apartment, the others were struggling to get to the window ledge, panting and clutching at their chests.

"Did...you have...to run....so fast?" Fantine breathed heavily. Marius, in his exhaustion, fell off the building several times while trying to walk, though it was more likely that after the first time he was doing it for kicks.

Javert waited impatiently for them to catch their breath before gliding through the window easily, not even flinching as he went through solid glass. The apartment was well lit and a CD was playing, though Javert had more important things to do than listen to the music. Good! Emily must be home then! He heard her talking – to who he didn't give a thought – and eagerly followed the sound of her voice, which laughed occasionally. It was then that Javert heard a male voice speaking in the silences where she wasn't.

She wasn't alone in the apartment as she usually was.

The others would swear by the Holy Book of God that his eyes turned bright green with jealousy when he first laid eyes on Jason Durmount. He was a young man, around twenty five, Javert guessed, with short brown hair and intensely blue eyes. He had straight white teeth and a dazzling smile. His personality only brightened his good looks, for he was a true and proper gentlemen as well as a sensible, modern day man.

Javert hated his guts.

Marius and Valjean had to pile on top of chief inspector Javert to keep him from attempting to murder the innocent young man. If a ghost was intent on doing it, he could really tear someone up, or at least make them a bit mentally unbalanced. Javert was mad enough to do anything.

Who was he, this cocksure little boy, to come into _her_ life? The life he had died for! Who was he to think he was even close to being worthy enough to talk and flirt with her?

When the blood curdling snarls had finally stopped, Javert writhed beneath his attackers and barked out words in protest. "Get off! Get off! I'm going to rip his head off!"

"No Javert, stop it! You've no idea what you're doing!" Valjean said, managing to keep a good hold on him.

"How can you possibly understand?" the mad dog charged back.

Valjean knocked him over in his pure anger. "Don't start saying things like that to me, Monsieur La Inspector! I know perfectly well how terrifying and jealousy inspiring it is to be afraid of loosing someone!" Marius wisely backed up behind the two women, knowing he'd been the cause of Valjean's surmounting jealousy; knowing he'd been the one Valjean had feared would snatch away Cosette.

And what was worst of all was that he had.

Valjean was quick to cool, however, and Javert was too surprised by the sudden attack to do anything about the young man with the glass of red wine in his hands. They managed to drag Javert off to a corner where he subsequently glared and pouted until the young man prepared to leave.

When Emily quickly kissed him good night, however, Javert's jaw dropped, his eyes doubled in size, and he became absolutely paralyzed.

...

It took several attempts of chucking him into the lake in Central Park to reawaken Javert from his paralyzing shock. She'd kissed him! Actually kissed him! And not the way you'd kiss a relative, either.

"Stop it!" Fantine cried frustrated as they got into the elevator back up to heaven. There was always the stairs, but they were all extremely tired, even if the stairs did have more ceremony. "Nothing's changed! So she's got a boyfriend? What do you care? Isn't it enough that she's happy?" She was obviously happy, for she smiled and laughed and sighed endlessly over this Jason Durmount. Javert simply gave the sense maker the cold shoulder.

"Look," Valjean said, tired of his friend's sour mood. "Even if you could go back to earth as a live thing, the only way God-" pause for angel chorus "- would even think of letting you go down there is as a dog, and then what would you have?"

Marius looked rather disgusted. "She would marry a dog?"

"I think that's illegal," Cosette piped in timidly.

"It's no longer your job to worry and fret over her," Fantine continued, the soft whirlwind surrounding her head and slowly turning her back into a woman, her golden hair tied into a bun. "You've done your piece. You saved her life, you got your eternity. Why don't you just leave her alone to move on and find her own happiness, whether it lies with someone else or not?"

"Because!" Javert finally shouted back. "Because...because that's the first time anyone's ever cried over me!" he murmured, but not so softly that no one could hear him.

"Oh, poor Javert," Cosette said sadly, wrapping a now human arm around a now human shoulder. "Poor, poor, Javert," she said with all sincerity.

"I know it's hard, Javert, but Fantine really is right," Valjean consoled. "You aren't her guardian angel; you're only the past memory of someone she once loved. Your job now is to figure out what to do with your daughter."

Javert sighed sadly. "So anything that ever was considered love is over now?"

"No, most certainly not," the wise old good Catholic man continued. "Death cannot stop love. It can only delay it for a little while."

...

Whilst the memory of Cojack the black German shepherd was a past memory for one Ms. Emily Leroux, it certainly wasn't a dead memory. Emily had picked up the framed picture of her beloved pooch, smiled fondly at it, and then went to go brush her teeth.

As she smeared spearmint tooth paste all over the purple brush, she considered that she might be going a little bit crazy. On occasion, she thought she almost _saw_ Cojack again, as though he'd come back. But she was a sensible girl, and was certain this was only the fond wishing of a silly girl, and Emily detested being so silly.

She'd admitted to Jason a few weeks ago when they'd only just met that she thought she might be going crazy, seeing her dead dog all over her apartment. To her delight he hadn't laughed but seemed to give it serious thought, and said "You know, I had a cat like that once. He was in a dream of mine once, and he looked so creepy, I decided not to wish him back to life anymore."

That had made Emily laugh.

She sighed, rinsing her mouth out to get rid of the paste, and finally, resigned that even if she were going crazy, she wasn't going to be so fool hardy enough to even consider finding a pet physic.

...

P.O.V

Brianna

New York City, New York

Present Day: 2005

There are a few defined rules about dog life: Don't go into another's territory unless you're looking for trouble. When fighting, fight to maim, not to kill. If you do kill with intention and swift purpose, then you are a murder. And, of course, the ever famous Big Two: The law of Tooth and Claw, and Survival of the Fittest. They apply very well to the life of a stray dog in New York City.

You can find dogs that have owners who do believe in God, or dogs simply outside big city life, but no stray believes in God, for if He's there, what good has He ever done us?

I suppose that, all combined, is what condemned me to my fate.

But that is not until further ahead in the story.

The story goes, for now, like this:

It is a few days after I first see my father and I am elated! Even when I think of it now, I am so happy, I do not think! That is why, when it begins to rain a bit too hard to escape in a card board box, I decide to head for a dry thicket of trees within the cemetery.

I don't give a single thought as to whose territory it is.

Just as I am settled in for a long evening of sweet dreams, I hear the first, last, and only warning: The blood curdling snarl goes to a fevered pitch as the bitch rams straight into me.

"It is you!" she screams at me. "You are far out of your territory, loner! Out! Out now!" she demands.

It doesn't take the rest of the pack long to catch up, but they stay back. It is her fight.

"Please," I beg. "I just need a place to sleep for the night. Please, have mercy on a poor soul!"

"Mercy is for the weak," she cries, attacking me, her claws ripping down my side. I cry out in pain and skitter away, but do not fight.

"Please!" I beg once more. Why won't she let me stay? Suddenly, I can't remember any of the laws that are vital to life. She ignores my pleas, and takes a vicious bite out of me.

That does it.

It is war now! The blood flies in the rain and our claws rake terrible patterns on each other. My teeth sink into her back and she cries out in pain, now definitely beaten, and she is backing down. I don't care! I want her head!

Snarling, I follow her forward, and try to engage her in fighting with me. She is confused, and refuses. So much for her. My teeth, red stained with blood, lash out, getting a firm grip on her throat. Her pack is too terrified to move. No one ever followed up a fight like this before! If I wasn't careful, I'd kill!

Unfortunately, that's what I was going for.

Her eyes glaze over. She is in her last death throws. She hasn't a prayer now. Finally, like a sacrificial animal, she sinks to her knees, and makes no sound and makes no move.

Nor will she ever again.

Suddenly all that I have done comes swooping down on me, and, in horror, I look up at the Dead One's pack, which are backing away in terror.

"You killed her," one whispers.

I try to deny the truth before my eyes. "No...I- I didn't mean to! She...She hurt me! I just, I just!"

"You just wanted revenge!" an angered one cries.

"Well...Yes!"

"And you got it! She is dead because of you!"

"No! No, that's not true!"

"Your teeth latched onto her throat! You sucked the life out of her! You're a murderer!"

"No!" I cry, trying, trying desperately to deny it. Simultaneously, they run. The ground is mine; her blood is mine, and the price? That too is mine.

Oh Heaven above! What have I done?

...

Javert wasn't at all aware that any of this was going on at the time, and if he'd been told some pack was fighting, he'd give you a look of "What difference does that make to me?" and return to his business.

His business now was stalking.

"Javert, I hardly think stalking the one you love is going to do much to woo her," said a candid Fantine.

"Worked perfectly for me!" crowed Marius, who took a moment to snuggle his wife. Both Valjean and Fantine gave him a cold look and he realized his mistake, with a nervous laugh, and backed down.

"Oh, but this is fun!" Cosette cried happily, changing the subject. "We really ought to do this more often! Can't we, Papa? Can't we come back down and do this more often?"

What they were doing was sitting on the roof top of the theater, watching a Broadway Musical being performed. The musical? Why, Les Miserable, of course! Emily was in the theater with Jason, which was the only reason Javert agreed to stay to watch it. He loathed it with a passion, remembering days when Emily had played that horrid CD when he had lived with her.

"Of course, my dear!" Valjean said jovially. "It is a good group event!" Javert hated group activities. At the moment, he really, _really_ hated this one because Valjean would not stop humming to it.

"No humming," Javert ordered with an icy glare in Valjean's direction.

Just to spite him, Valjean burst into loud song right on time with the performer below. The fact that Valjean was terribly tone-death did nothing to help. "YOU CAN TAKE! YOU CAN GIVE! LET HIM BE! LET HIM-"

"Enough!" cried Javert, covering his ears with his paws. Valjean stopped, for even the polite Fantine was cringing a bit. "Can't we go home?" Javert complained, having had quite enough interruptions to break into song. This was quite an astonishing request, for Javert never asked to go "home."

"But monsieur, aren't you enjoying yourself?" asked Cosette.

"They make me look like a religious psycho," he grumbled.

"Yeah, well, you are pretty weird," teased Marius, who was given a light hit by Cosette. Javert merely glared.

"Sorry monsieur," said Valjean. "We will stay until it is over. That's not too long from now anyway!"

It was long enough for Javert, who decided he wasn't even interested in following Emily home, if it truly was her life, which stunned the others. He was just tired and unhappy, and, like a child, wanted to go home, and repeated this desire several times.

"Oh, but can't we go down and see the set and the costumes?" begged Fantine, fascinated. Valjean decided it would be alright once everyone left, which was surprisingly soon. Apparently, they, too, were tired and wanted to go home to bed, like Javert. They glided through the ceiling with ease and comfort, slowly landing on the stage. After hunting around for a bit, they managed to find the light switch, and everything looked much better in the light. They found the costume room quickly enough, and it took Marius seconds to find a box full of things that hadn't yet been put away and were in disorder.

And with Marius, chaos could begin relatively quickly.

"Oh! Look at this!" Marius said, his tail wagging furiously. With his teeth, he pulled out a black cape with red on the side that went to the person's back, a brass chain around it. He unceremoniously draped this over Javert's head, despite Fantine shouting at Marius to put it down. Javert, now lost in a sea of cape, wriggled and struggled to find the edge. Unfortunately for him, he found the edge that the brass chain connected, so that the cloth really could be worn as a cape.

"Oh dear," said Valjean, a paw to his temple.

"Get it off!" Javert shouted, trying his best to wiggle out of it.

Marius was completely ignoring him, finding a lively pink bonnet and snagging that to Cosette's head, who was trying to reason with him to put everything back. It didn't do much good, for he put a flower purple hat on Fantine's head, a white cravat around Valjean, who looked down at it rather surprised, and finally, a large, black hat with one large, fluffy black feather in it for himself.

"Hey look!" he said importantly, pointing to his head. "I have a hat!"

"Yes, we can see that, now can we get out of these ridiculous costumes and go home yet?" Javert growled, irritated as he chewed at the brass around his neck.

"En garde! I'm a Musketeer!"

Cosette sighed, and tipped his hat forward and over his eyes. Marius stumbled and fell, shoving the hat back into place on his black head. He faked looking hurt at Cosette. "My lady! Doth thou fraternize with the enemy?"

Cosette giggled. "Oh, Marius!"

"Revenge!" he shouted, waving an invisible sword at Javert, who was getting steadily more annoyed. Fantine managed to rip off her bonnet, Valjean did the same with his cravat while he helped Cosette out of her own hat, and she managed to find the buckle for Javert's cape, and release him.

At just perfect timing, a security guard walked in, and was absolutely stunned as he saw nothing waving around a black hat and asking him "Can I keep this?" The man nodded faintly before falling to the floor.

Valjean shoved the crew out the door. "Let's get out of here before someone else finds us!"

...

Javert was nearly dead with fatigue in the elevator. His eyes were closed; he drooped against the wall, and snored very lightly. Marius and Valjean had to push him awake and out of the elevator. Yawning, he stepped out, and the five began walking off to go to sleep.

There was only one problem with that.

Javert was so tired he walked with his eyes closed. He knew the way to his room well enough. When he bumped against the solid thing, he didn't open one sleep blurred eye, but instead tried to go around it. He continued bumping into that same solid wall without even thinking what it was. Grumbling, he began to shove against it, when finally, he shouted "What is going on!" and opened his eyes angrily.

He visibly paled as a row of tall angels stared down at him. He noticed that the others were also looking fearfully at the row archangels. "Erm...Did I do something wrong?"

"Javert, there is a problem with your daughter. You must go back down immediately."

**To Be Continued...**


	4. Legacy

**Your Rapture: Chapter Four: Legacy**

**A.N.: The song Legacy is by Theresa Johnson. I use it without permission, but I met Theresa once and she is such a nice person! I really don't think she'd mind me using it for this song-fic chapter. I really wish you could hear it. It's a lovely song. E-mail me and I can send you a really, really bad midi version of the song I made. Also, this is going to be a really, really, really long chapter. Also, this take on Hell is based off of Dante's Inferno, but I have made some changes for my own convenience (these can't be considered wrong, really, since how did Dante even know?)**

_When I am ninety-two_

_And my living days are through_

_Will you remember me?_

Javert wasn't even given the luxury of pausing to guzzle down some coffee, which really didn't matter. The fear and adrenalin rush were keeping him well awake.

He was panting as they ran. The elevator would take too long so they bolted down the stairs, turning and leaping on the landings, and occasionally crashing to the floor if they stumbled.

When they finally made it down to the bottom, they were once again dogs, and the spirits that were coming up the stairs were giving them odd looks.

"Well," panted Marius, clutching a stitch in his chest. "We're on earth. Now, is there time to stop and breath?"

Apparently not. Valjean prodded the group to keep moving. Something was really; really bad if the archangels were in on it. Racing along the night, they finally decided to check the alley way, not knowing where else to look.

There they found her, huddled next to a garbage can, her eyes wide, and she shook and shivered uncontrollably. Occasionally she muttered "What am I doing here? Who am I? What's going on?" Javert looked taken aback as Valjean quickly whipped out a miracle and the five dogs became visible.

"Brianna?" Javert asked. The insanity that seemed to grip Brianna let go as Javert said her name, and her eyes snapped in his direction.

"Daddy?" she asked, afraid. Javert disliked being called daddy, but swept it to the side. More important things had to be dealt with first.

"What's going on? What are you doing here?"

She burst into a flurry of emotional frenzy. "Quick! You've got to do something! If I go home they're sure to come after me! Oh, they're going to kill me!"

"What? Who's going to kill you?"

"The pack! The pack of the female I killed!"

All five ghosts looked startled at this.

"Oh dear Lord," Fantine said, slumping against the brick wall for support.

"You _what_?" Javert demanded hotly. Javert could not stand murders of any sort. "You did what?"

"I didn't mean to! I just....stopped thinking!"

"How could you do such a thing?"

"Daddy, you'll help me, won't you?" she cried, stepping closer to him as Javert stepped back.

"The blood is on your hands, Brianna, not mine. I don't know what you want me to do about it!"

"But you're my father! You've got to do something!"

"What? Hm? What can I do about it?" he yelled, become increasingly agitated. Valjean tried to calm him down, but it did no good.

"I don't know! But you're purebred! Surely you can do something!"

At this, Javert just snapped. "No! No I'm not Brianna! Is that what you want to hear? I never was! I was the son of a convict and a gypsy. Does that comfort you?"

"But none of that matters now! In the life you fathered me in, you were-"

"I was exactly the same! This," he motioned to himself and the others, "none of this is real Brianna! Don't pin your dreams to it! It's all one big mask!"

Brianna looked terribly confused.

"I never was as good as you wanted me to be! There never was a purpose to my birth!"

"Are you saying that you shouldn't have been born?" she cried, terrified and confused.

"Maybe so!"

"And what about me! What does that make me? Was I supposed to never be born?"

Javert was angry and upset. He wasn't thinking. "Yes! Maybe that's true too!"

They all gasped. Brianna looked about ready to burst into tears if dogs could cry. She couldn't cry, so she ran. She ran out the alley and far away.

"Oh Javert, how could you say such a thing!" Fantine may be a dog, but she was a ghost, and she was crying. "How could you be so heartless?" Javert was paying her no heed, he was secretly regretting saying any of those things, but he'd never admit to it. He was too proud and stubborn for that. Instead he paced and paced the alley way, grunting here and there and being generally angry and upset. Marius and Cosette had not dared to say a word, and simply clung to each other and the wall, neither bold enough to move.

"Mon Dieu, mon Dieu," Valjean repeated over and over, trying to think. Finally, tired of pacing, Javert grumbled and lay down, not noticing the fact that he was lying in a puddle. Valjean finally began to say coherent words. "Javert, you shouldn't have said those things. Oh no, oh no.... We've got to find her before something happens."

"Why?" Javert demanded. "Why do we need to find her? What difference does it make to us?"

"Be quiet, monsieur!" Fantine shouted. "Reap what you have sown!" Javert didn't dare argue, and rose.

"Well, how do we find her?"

"I don't know," admitted Valjean. "We'll think of something."

The something they thought of was to run, smell the air, try and scent her, try and find her.

...

Brianna felt like her whole world had begun to crash around her. She didn't understand what was going on. Once again, her name, her life, all of if began to become a hazy blur. The black pavement beneath her became so odd that she didn't understand it. What were those odd silver beams that rose up caring boards with words on them? What was this black river? Why wasn't she swimming?

Brianna had no concept for how fast and far she had gone. She had no concept for anything. Nothing made sense anymore! Had it ever?

And what was that odd, painfully bright light coming straight towards her?

Brianna would never see the semi truck coming.

...

Valjean suddenly stopped running, stricken. The others, noticing he was no longer with them, stopped and walked back to him.

"What is it?" Marius asked seriously.

"Look," he said breathlessly, fearfully, pointing to a point on the distant horizon.

Black. It glowed black, like heavy, heavy smog was radiating from the spot. Valjean had paled.

"But what _is_ it?" Javert asked, equally perplexed.

"I think...." But Valjean did not finish the sentence. Instead, he moved his pack on, on to that distant spot.

...

P.O.V

Javert

New York City, New York

Present Day: 2005

The mess on the side of the road doesn't even look like the elegant, finely boned creature I'd been yelling at mere hours ago. The same fur color, the same, dirty, matted look, but the bones hadn't been snapped and bent at odd angles, and there weren't patches of blood here and there. Had anyone even noticed? Had the car that hit her even cared?

"Oh Brianna....." I whisper, not knowing what to do. I creep to the cold body, too late to do anything to help her. "Oh Brianna..." this time louder, beginning to cry ever so slightly. "What have I done to you? What has happened to you?" That poor child... that poor, poor, _child_! What had she ever done to deserve such a fate? She'd lived a life deprived of love, of any kind of warmth! Oh, that poor soul. That poor wretched soul! "I should have taken better care of you. I should of done something, thought of something. But now....But now it comes to this...." I watch her with a hint of fondness. She would have appreciated that. "Well," I say, turning back to my compatriots. "At least now her suffering is over."

Marius looks surprised. "Over?" He turns to Valjean, stricken. "He's kidding, right?"

I darken. "What do you mean?"

Marius backs up, frightened. "You mean.... You mean he doesn't know? Mon Dieu, he doesn't know?"

I snarl and leap towards him, knocking the lab over. "What don't I know? Stop speaking in rhymes!"

"Yes Monsieur la Inspector, solve it with violence, I agree whole heartedly."

We all turn to the speaker, an unknown voice. Rough, dark, and frightening. We cower and pale, huddling against each other in terror.

A demon.

His eyes are red, and there is blood dripping from his awful fangs. He stinks of brimstone and fire, and all he is is a dark, dark shadow that you cannot possibly put to the likeness of another image.

"Murderers, heretics... Your little brat fit both roles."

"Mon Dieu..." I whisper, terribly frightened.

"Yes, I think we'll quite enjoy our new addition to hell...." He looks about ready to say something else, but looks slightly frightened as Valjean is doing several Hail Mary's, hymns, and psalms under his breath in increasingly louder intervals. "Stop it," the demon says, but obviously without much power to it. It hisses as Valjean's words become very distinct, loud, and clear, ringing in the wet night air. Slowly, it slinks away, retreating into that black fog.

"What do we do?" I ask Valjean. Suddenly, an idea strikes.... Hell! I must go there! I've got to find a way to save Brianna's soul, if it's the only kind, good thing I ever did for her! I'm her father; I must.

I snatch Valjean's bag from around his neck. "Hey!" he cries out as I pull it over is head and dig a black paw into the bag. A miracle! I must have a miracle! The little ball of fluffy, orange light whirls and shakes itself, as though it were waking up.

"Take me to the gates of-"

I can't finish. Valjean has whapped the thing out of my paws. "Hey!" I cry out. The little orange ball bounces on the pavement and makes a slight clucking sound, as though not liking the treatment it's getting.

"Javert, you great, big, idiot! What do you think you are doing?"

"I've got to do something to help her!" I argue.

"By yourself?"

"Well, yeah!"

"Well, no!"

"Valjean, you have to let me go! I've got to do this one thing for her!"

"He's not stopping you!" Marius said stubbornly. "But he won't let you go alone. We won't let you go alone."

I look surprised. "This is my burden."

"And we shall help you carry the load. That is what friends do, monsieur," Cosette says. What can I do? I agree, Valjean picks up the fallen miracle, which looks quite miffed, and asks for us all to go to the gates of Hell.

It obliges.

...

_When the sky is on fire,_

_And I've reached my heart's desire,_

_Will you remember me?_

_I don't have to wait, _

_To see what might become._

_Today is now,_

_And I am today,_

_But_

_Now I ask and say;_

It's dark. It's not the kind of dark where you feel all tranquil and are looking up at the stars dark. It's the kind of dark where you're trying desperately to convince yourself there aren't monsters in your closet, just sweaters dark. Vaguely, you can see the outlines of trees, and feel as though no matter how far you walk, no matter how many years, you're always stuck in that wood; like you're never getting out. Valjean is the only one who can possibly relate to such a feeling, but of course he's not sharing. We all just huddle together and try to figure out what we're supposed to do now.

But it isn't all dark! Far, far up and on the horizon, one big, bright fire is glowing. It isn't a comforting fire, it's a frightening one, but that obviously means there's a way out. "Dis..." Marius whispers. "The walled city of Dis...."

We follow the fire light, and then, slowly, the trees are becoming less and less, and we can almost see the edge.... There's a stone wall far off and away, but it's getting closer every moment. It's not a fiery wall, but I think that's all okay with us.

And then, we are out! It's broad daylight! There are no trees! Marius lets out an appreciative whoop of joy, and I can't help but echo the feeling. Confidently, we begin to walk in the direction of the wall.

And simultaneously, are all whapped on the head.

...

Ow, it hurts.....It's been a while since I've felt physical pain, so it's a bit unnerving. My head hurts, and a soft, whispering voice is calling to me. "Javert, wake up, Javert......" It's such a familiar voice. It almost sounds like.....

Like _her_.

I open my eyes, and there she is, washing my head with a cool, damp cloth. "You're safe now."

"What?" I ask, beginning to stand.

"No, sit down. You're fine. You're safe." I sit. Why, I don't know. Because there's no reason not to, I suppose.

"What are you doing here?" I ask her.

She looks surprised. "What do you mean? We're at home. Just like always."

Home.... That sounds so nice, that I feel like I could just relax and sleep, and never, ever wake up.... Just stay there, with her......

What was it I was doing before being here? Who was it I was talking with? There was something going on.... Something important. But it must not be that important if I can't remember it.

"But it is important," I think to myself. "It's very important." I slowly repeat this in my mind, over, and over, and over, until I'm whispering it, and then saying it aloud.

"What's important?" Emily asks. "Nothing's going on. There's nothing important."

"There is!" I argue. Wait? Why is she talking to me? Why can she understand me? How can she see me? Why did she call me Javert?

There is something important!

"None of this is real! None of this is true!" I begin to shout.

"Stop it! Stop saying that!" she screams. "Don't you want to stay here? Don't you want to be happy?"

"I don't want to live inside of a lie!" I shout back.

And then it's gone!

It's as though I've been asleep, and I start coughing and shouting, vaguely for help, maybe for something else. I look around, and I see the others slowly rise.

"Where are we?" I ask Valjean. "What was....that? That thing, that phantasm?"

He shakes his head like a wet dog. Wait, he is still a dog! He's still a Golden Retriever! And I'm still a German shepherd. What? But we're in the realm of the dead. We're never dogs amongst the dead! "The city of the virtuous pagans." He helps the others, also looking groggy from their own untrue fantasies. "That's where we are."

Looking over the white wall of the city, I can see hills far off in the distance, and that stone wall we had finally reached. On the hills people are chasing banners and swatting at insects, their own eternal punishment. Looking around the beautiful city, it looks like everyone is asleep, with smiles on their faces.

"Why are they all sleeping?" Cosette asks.

"Because they decided the dream was better than the reality. They chose not to wake up."

"Do they know they are asleep?" Fantine questions.

"Not so far as I know," the old man says, sniffing around for the gate.

"That's awful!" cries Cosette.

Valjean gave a snuff at that. "That's not the worst part."

"Well what's the worst part?" I ask nervously.

"The worst part is they think they're happy. They're not..." he sighs. "They're not."

"But this is for pagans, so why are we here?" Marius inquires.

Valjean shrugs. "They probably don't know what else to do with us."

"Then where's Brianna?" I ask.

"Don't rush me, that's an awful lot of questions, and I've got to sort out where she is and how to get there." Valjean paces back and forth, carefully avoiding a Border collie's tail that tries vainly to wag. "Limbo...Limbo..." he repeats. I assume that's where we are. "Alright, so we're in Limbo." Bingo. "All we need to do is get to Minos."

"What's in Minos?" I ask.

"Minos isn't a what. He's a who," Valjean corrects.

"Fine, so who is Minos?"

Valjean gives a slight shudder. "The Eternal Judge."

Our eyes go wide. "No way," I argue. "We were judged by God. Not any sort of Minos, whoever, whatever, and wherever that is!"

"It's only for those who most definitely did not have God in their hearts or who committed terrible, terrible sins without repent."

"This is all terribly confusing," admits Marius, and I think we all agree on that.

"Look, the more time we stand around here talking, the less gets done. Now, I know this isn't exactly something we can do full of confidence, but lets not be cowardly about it."

Fantine sighs. "Valjean's right. Let's get moving."

So, slowly, we move along.

...

_What is my Legacy?_

_Will God say you've lived for me?_

_Will my life live on_

_In your hearts when I am gone?_

_My Legacy._

We are all beginning to feel that, while we wouldn't want to vacation here, Hell isn't so bad. Even the great Palace of Justice that Minos works in doesn't seem so terrible.

That is, until you get inside the great Palace of Justice.

Minos is clearly no pushover. He seems to be having a bit of an off day (are there on days in Hell?) and he has his head resting on a fist tightened into a ball, the elbow resting on his great ivory chair. He clearly does not have that much patience, for his tail lashes angrily back and forth as he listens to the begging and pleading.

"Mon Dieu monsieur!" Fantine cries, turning to look at me. "He's just like you."

I look stricken, and try to think of an answer, but there is nothing to say. She is right, that is simply it. I open my mouth anyway, but am distracted when Minos' tail wraps around his body four times, and then shoots out at its victim before carrying it very quickly away. We all simultaneously gulp.

"Next!" he calls annoyed. We realize that we're next, and nervously shift up. He glances at us. "Sorry, but you've already been judged. Furthermore, you're not supposed to be here. Go back to Heaven before I drown you in the Styx. I don't have time for useless banter. There's a suicide bombing in five minutes, and guess who has to do all the judging? Me!" he shouts, clearly unhappy. My God, what are we doing here? This guy could put us in boiling blood before you count to three! What did we think we were gong to say to him? "I'm sorry sir, I want my daughter's soul back, and can you point us in the right direction?"

Clever Valjean quickly twists Minos' melancholy to our advantage. "Sir, we represent the BBE, and we'd just like to briefly ask you a few questions."

Needless to say, the other four of us, and Minos, are blinking. "What?" he asks. "What now? And then why are you all glowing? Souls judged by God are always glowing!"

"The BBE," Valjean repeats. "The Bureau for Better Eternity. It is a relatively new organization. God just set it up."

"God?" Minos asks sarcastically. "Since when did He start caring?"

"Well, you did come to Hell by choice, sir, did you not?"

"Well, yeah, but-"

"And God still has your best interests in mind."

None of us know if it's true or not, we're not asking. Minos looks stunned. "Erm, well, what do you want to know? But you better make it snappy, because if we get to big a back log, then-"

"We assure you we won't take up any more of your precious time than we have to."

"Shoot then."

"Do you have proper health care here, sir?"

Minos seems slightly surprised by the question. "Health care?" Valjean nods. "You know, I don't think we get health care in the package.... I mean, I know we don't even have dental!"

Valjean leans into Marius and says "Make a note: they don't even have dental." Marius looks somber and clucks his tongue in a manner of utmost disapproval. "Yes, we'll have to speak to your supervisor about that."

Minos suddenly seems nervous. "But, this is all strictly confidential, right?"

"Oh yes, of course," Valjean assures him. "Now all we need to do is see some records, and we'll be done with you."

Minos now seems confused. "But most of them are in Dis...."

"The one's you have here will do fine."

He shrugs. "All right." He points to the left where a dark corridor is. "Just down that hall."

"Thank you, sir."

We turn and all try hard not to exhale one collective breath of relief.

"Wait!" he suddenly calls, and we all turn in utmost fear.

"Y-yes?" Valjean asks, trying to sound calm.

"You're colleagues; don't they have any questions?" We all shake our head furiously no.

"No, just witnesses."

"Secretarial work, mostly!"

"Just coming along for the ride!"

"You answered them all!"

He waves goodbye and we can hear him, once again, call icily "Next!"

...

"Bingo!" Valjean says through clenched teeth as he delicately pulls out the piece of paper from the file.

"Good, now can you get off my back before it snaps?" Marius whispers. The cabinet that we were certain had Brianna's paper in it was too high up, so Valjean had to stand on mine and Marius' back. When he's finally off, we collapse to the floor.

"So what's it say?" Cosette asks anxiously.

Valjean holds it at arms distance and reads: Name: Brianna Race: Canine Sex: Female Judgment: Murderer Circle: Seven. Well that tells all then!"

"But that barely even makes sense!" Fantine cries!

"Well, it does if you know the structure of Hell." Valjean draws a crude map in the dust on the floor. "See, here's where we are, and here's where the Violent are. Just past Dis and the Phlegethon River."

Marius pales. "We don't have to go in Dis, do we?"

"Not so far as I can figure," the old Retriever says, scratching his ear with his back paw. He stretches, thinks, and then continues. "Right, all the rivers connect and loop into one continues circle." He points out the Acheron, Styx, Phlegethon and the Cocytus. "All we have to do is go through the first four circles and we can make it to the River Styx. As long as we continue to move down river, we can eventually go into the Phlegethon, stop, save Brianna's soul, and use a miracle to get out! We've used...." Valjean begins to count in his head "...Three, which gives us seven left. We're okay for now, but let's not be extravagant, shall we?"

We all nod in agreement. That's just fine with us.

"All right then! Let's get moving then! Next stop is the River Styx!"

...

Of course, getting to the River Styx is completely different than wanting to be at the River Styx. We are all wishing to use a miracle, but Valjean, the only one who's aloud to use them, stands firm. We might get ourselves into a tight spot latter and need to use it then. It would not be good to discover that we've used all of them up when we really need those most.

It is almost comical at the Whirl Wind, land of the Lustful. One guy is waving his arms furiously and leaping to get off the ground. "Man, if I could just get up there! That guy's got three of them!" High above the heads of the afflicted, people who Minos rewarded are swirling around with others, coupling, and to Cosette's distaste, occasionally copulating. It's driving the ones stuck on the ground wild. Marius snickers uncontrollably, and the sinful are giving him such evil looks that it looks like one is about to attack him. Valjean quickly moves us on.

It doesn't take too much longer to get to the Gluttons, stuck in cold, muddy snow. We have to lift our feet high and with all our might to simply get our stuck feet out to take another step. Cerebus looks at us demurely but does nothing to stop us. I guess we positively glow with the love of God when placed next to the damned. No one would dare chain a beloved of God in Hell.

And next, are the Angry, which are even more comical than the Lustful. Two separate sides form themselves into a living battering ram and have at each other all day. Lord knows what they're fighting about, for they don't. Occasionally, you can hear such shouts as "Oh yeah, well you're momma was a foot stool!" "Don't you dare talk about my momma!"

We stop, and watch from side to side, like a tennis match, until we finally decide they're not interested in us, and hurry on.

After a while, we're all getting bored and tired, and so we don't even bother to stop and watch the other tribulations of the sinful. All we want is to get to the river.

We find it all too soon. A huge line of people stretches for miles, and far away, we can see the gray, tiny line of the River Styx.

A demon hands us a number. Mine's 294875. "What's this mean?" I ask him.

"That's how many years you have to wait till you get to the front of the line." We all pale, but I'm the worst. Everyone I care about will be gone by then! Brianna's soul will be destroyed; she will remember noting of me, of love, of life! Emily will be gone! Everything will be. I can't wait that long!

So I run, past the crowd, down the river bank, and just before I leap into the water, I can hear Valjean shouting "Javert, you idiot, what are you doing? We have to pay the-"

Splash!

"-Boatman."

I am starting to dog paddle for that frightening distant shore – the fiery city of Dis – when I feel as though a hand has grabbed at my ankle. What the? Without a second warning, dozens of hands are grabbing me and pulling me down. I struggle for air, for the surface of the water, to swim on, but slowly, the Sullen, condemned to forever float and sigh amongst the waters of the Styx for all eternity, are pulling me down with them. I haven't got a prayer.

Whap!

Or do I? Looking around, I can see the little wooden boat right next to me, Cosette and Fantine smacking the heads of souls furiously with the oars. "Let him go, you monsters, you brutes!" Cosette is screaming. Marius is clawing and snarling at them, which confuses and distracts them long enough for Valjean to lift me out of the water. Coughing and sputtering, I claw my way onto the boat, and curl up in a little, wet, fuzzy ball for a moment, coughing the water out of my lungs.

I look up and ask Valjean "Why are we still dogs?"

"I don't know," he answers with a shake of his head. "I've only experienced the Hell of the living, not the dead. Cosette is holding onto Marius with all her strength, and little flecks of bad memories are whisking in my head, and I begin to realize we're all living through the Hell's we remembered from life.

"Marius, I'm afraid!" Cosette cries, clinging to him. We all huddle in to each other until the moments of terror have passed and we know we're safe as we ever are in hell.

"How did we get the Ferryman's boat?" I ask Valjean. "We weren't buried with coins in our mouths...."

Valjean indicates the little leather pouch, still fastened about his neck. "We use a miracle."

"How many do we have left?" Marius asks.

"Six," Valjean answers.

"What happens now?" questions Fantine.

"We float down river until we reach the mouth of the Phlegethon, then we turn in there and dock at the seventh circle: murderers. See, everything's going according to plan."

But suddenly, this isn't true. Valjean has started to row so that we are turning into the Phlegethon, but the Sullen don't like this; why should _we_ be happy if they never are? They don't seem to realize that it is thinking such as this that got them into Hell in the first place. Slowly, they begin to form their own sort of tide; the boat is being pushed off course. We begin to row with all our might, begging the Sullen to think; what difference would it make to them if we saved a soul or not? But terrible, selfish beings that they are! They refuse to listen, and we are stuck on the wrong river, and the only way to get back towards the Phlegethon is to go all the way down to the Cocytus, which no one wants to do. The Cocytus River is what separates Lucifer from the rest of Hell, and none of us is ready to take on Lucifer. We try desperately to row against this make-shift tide, but it is to no avail. We have no choice but to go down the Cocytus, and pray to God we meet no trouble along the way.

...

_As these days pass by,_

_And I try to look through your eyes;_

_My Legacy._

_Was I good enough for you?_

_Am I good enough for me?_

_I ask on bended knee._

_I don't have to wait,_

_To see what might become._

_Today is now,_

_And I am today,_

_But,_

_Now I ask and say._

_What is my Legacy?_

_Will God say you've lived for me? _

_Will my life live on?_

_In your hearts when I am gone?_

_My Legacy._

The boat continues to drift ideally along, but we manage to keep it just close enough to shore so we always have a land feature, but not close enough anyone could attack us if they really wanted to. It grows colder as we go farther down river, and Valjean explains that's because we're nearing Lucifer, and we all squeeze together, half frightened out of our wits.

Finally, we see the mouth of the Cocytus, and row like made to make it to it. We enter the river, and the current slows down, and we move quietly along this deathly water. Finally, we think we can see where it lets up and goes into the main stream. If we can just make it there, all we need to do is row up river and drift into the Phlegethon, and we have it set!

But the river has other ideas, for it drags us down until we almost crash upon the shoreline of a tiny island in the middle of the river. Unfortunately, we do not make it to the shore unscathed, for the boat has a nasty tear in it. But luck, for the moment, is with us, for there's tons of trees on this island. We begin to try and cut one down, when a nasty voice calls from behind us.

"Don't touch my trees!"

We turn and see with horror a demon, his red eyes glaring at us, a rusty chain in his hands, the end of which is connected to a fierce dog, blind by the look of it's eyes. It sniffs and snarls in our direction, and we all cower back.

"Ah, you fear now, yes I can see it," he says slickly, reaching down to unclip the chain and we pull back even farther. "Do you wonder at his eyes? Have you not heard? Hate is blind, as well as love! Yes, this is my faithful dog; Blind Hatred. Ha ha!" With that last terrible laugh, he unclips the chain and Blind Hatred comes lunging at us and I yelp as he sinks his teeth into my leg, some insidious poison seeping in....

...

"Javert don't!"

"Somebody get him!"

Javert was deaf to the shouts around him, and blind to whomever it was he was trying to attack. The demon was cackling merrily before retaining his dog and disappearing. Foam dripped from the mad ghost's muzzle and he snarled terribly. Confused and angry, he finally lunged at whatever objects was closest to him.

It happened to be Valjean, and he bit at his leg, but Valjean was able to pull away before whatever poison had infected Javert seeped into his own blood stream. However, he was out of action, the wound hurting terribly as he nursed it.

"Marius, do something!" Cosette screamed at him. Marius quickly climbed the sapling they had just about knocked down and with a well calculated amount of force, brought the tree down on Javert's head. The mad man gave a small yelp before toppling to the ground.

"Now what are we going to do?" Fantine asked.

"Get to work, I guess....." Marius suggested, trying to split the wood apart and see if he could find a way to nail it to the hole in the boat.

When this had been accomplished, they all climbed into the boat – though Valjean limped, and Javert was dragged and gave a short moan when his head hit the side. They began to go afloat, but knew they had to heal and revive their companion sometime soon, other wise they didn't know how they'd get Brianna out.

"I've got an idea! Give me a miracle!" Cosette cried excitedly. Marius rummaged through Valjean's leather pouch and handed her one. She whispered words to it, and finally, let it loose. It hovered in the air for a moment, buzzing and humming, before it expanded and formed the shape of a man, and finally, became a man; Saint Servatus.

"Got a bit of leg trouble, have we?" he asked, floating above the boat and peering in.

"You can say that again," Marius sighed gruffly at the patron saint of leg wounds.

"Just for time's sake, I won't," the man smiled. "Now, what happened?"

"Blind Hate attacked Javert, Javert attacked Valjean. Marius knocked Javert out, and the rest is self explanatory," Fantine supplied.

"Hm, hm, hm...." he hummed, placing a hand on his chin. "Yes, I can fix that easily enough." He wrapped Valjean's wounded leg, and did the same for Javert, sticking a small vial of green liquid in his mouth and getting him to swallow.

Javert began to open his eyes, coughing and groaning. Marius put a hand on his nose, just incase it hadn't worked.

"You'd better let him up," suggested the saint. "He's going to be feeling pretty sick." Marius quickly scrambled out of the way as the German shepherd managed to heave himself up and throw his head over the port side of the boat, and depositing the contents of his stomach into the river as the boat floated away from the Cocytus and closer to the Phlegethon. This process was repeated a few times before Javert finally collapsed back into the boat, still groaning and clutching his stomach.

Fantine glided over to Javert's side to help comfort him as he nestled into a ball and groaned. "Think you could get us into the Phlegethon River?" she asked.

Servatus clucked his tongue. "Sorry, you'll have to try a different saint for that. I'm afraid I'm no good at boats." Valjean shook his head no when asked if they could use another miracle to conjure up another saint.

"There's no more islands from here to the mouth of the river," he pointed that feature out. "We can make it to land, through the boiling blood, grab Brianna, and miracle our way out of this place. Saving that one, we only have four miracles left. I don't want to chance it."

"Well then it looks like you won't be needing me," Servatus said, and with a last goodbye and a God-bless, popped out of sight.

...

They all just sort of stared at the shore. There was about two inches of land, and then it was up to their torsos – their dog torsos, that is – in hot, boiling blood.

"Ew," was Marius' commented.

"No kidding," Fantine said dryly.

Cosette was burying her head into her husband's shoulder so she wouldn't be sick, and Javert, who was still in the boat and feeling sickly, tossed his head over the side again and emptied the contents of whatever stomach a ghost has.

Valjean turned his head to look at him after he'd finished. "Well? Aren't you going in?"

Javert stared at him as though he were mad. "You're kidding, right?"

"That's the land of murderers, and your daughter's a murderer," Marius reminded, while Javert shot him a cold glare.

"Yeah, but boiling blood? That's a little bit different then trekking all over New York city!"  
"It was your idea to come down here!" Fantine accused.

"I didn't think it would be this bad!"

"What did you think it would be like? This is hell!" Cosette snapped, raising her head up quickly before putting it back down. "Just go in there and get her," she begged.

Sighing, Javert said alright, and jumped out of the boat, the water flickering around him. He walked onto the shore, took a deep breathe, and bolted into the blood, running as fast as he could while he called Brianna's name. The others soon followed suit.

"Daddy......" there was a faint whisper of the word, and Javert's ear flickered towards it. There he found her, covered in blood, turning her head to the side so she could see him, for lifting her head was in impossibility. He slipped and slid through the blood trying to get to her, desperately calling her name.

"It's okay now, Brianna! I came! I'm here! We'll get you out."

The girl seemed to take heart in these words, for she wagged her tail, but it was feeble, and she seemed so exhausted that she put her head back down, the spirit driven out of her.

Javert grabbed her head and pulled it up so he could look into her eyes. "Don't do this, don't give up! Damn it, I went through hell for you, the least you could do is stay awake!"

She shuddered and closed her eyes, and didn't move. The others had come sliding forward, and fell in a heap as they tried to stop. Valjean whipped out a miracle and started whispering hurried words. "Stay awake, Brianna, you must stay awake!" the others encouraged.

"Yes, I want the miracle to be done now!" Valjean shouted at the miracle as it purred a question. "What do you think? We're in the middle of hell, here! What are we going to do, pick out summer homes?" It whirled indignantly, and bustled itself up, but with a pop, took them all out.

...

"I'm frightened," Brianna admitted as they used another miracle to drag her soul up to heaven so she wouldn't be stuck on earth as a ghost her whole after life; Hell might be preferable to that.

"It will be alright," Valjean encouraged.

"All we have to do is ask God if he will regenerate your body and put your soul in it, and then you may live again!"

"But I was a heretic! He must hate me!"

Valjean gently comforted her. "All the angels in heaven rejoice more over a repentant sinner than the white robes of a thousand good men."

"Are you repentant?" Cosette asked.

"Of course! I mean, I believe in God, if that's what you mean. How can I not, having been in Hell? As for the murder...."

"That wasn't your fault," Marius said stoutly. "The disease took over you, and you couldn't help that."

"Speaking of disease," piped up Javert, who was absolutely exhausted, and had been remaining quite, trying to get the remainder of the blood off him, "Will that still effect her in her regenerated body?"

"Your guess is as good as mine," Valjean supplied. "Personally, I doubt it, but you never know."

They waited in line for a while, but were finally able to see God. He took one look at them, just as Fantine began to open her mouth, and said "Alright." She shut it, confused.

"But you don't even know what we were going to say!" Cosette said, stunned.

"Of course I do! I'm God! You want Brianna's soul be allowed to re-inhibit a body again, and I said alright. Anything else?"

They all stared at him stupidly.

"No? Well, down you go!" And he waved them off.

...

_Remember my songs,_

_Remember this tune_

_On cold winter nights,_

_And hot times in June._

_Live life out loud_

_And God will be proud._

_Together we'll stand up and say:_

"You don't have to do this," Marius reminded. "She's a pretty dog. Chances are some one else will adopt her."

"But if someone doesn't, she'll be killed, and I didn't go through hell just so she'd be killed after how ever many months they'll give her."

"Yes, but this time she'll go to Heaven," Valjean reminded.

"It doesn't matter. This is the only way it will work. How many miracles have we got, Valjean?"

Valjean peered into the bag and did a quick count. "Well, since God made us use one to regenerate Brianna's body, that leaves us three. Since we had to use another one to put her in East Side Animal Shelter, that left us two. Using this one to get into Emily's dream will leave us one. Yes, we have enough." With that, he handed Javert the orange miracle.

Closing his eyes tightly, Javert prayed to the fluffy orange ball in his hands. It vibrated between his paws, and finally engulfed him, so all that anyone saw was bright orange light, and then that vanished too.

Where Javert had vanished to was Emily's dream. He had one shot at this, one shot at convincing her he was her dead dog and that she had to adopt his daughter. He hadn't the faintest idea in the world as to how he would do that.

So, he just walked through the dream – since it was a prophetic dream there was nothing but white – until he found Emily, turning her head this way and that and wondering how she gone from dreaming about toaster ovens, to this.

Javert felt his heart leap into his throat, and for a moment, he couldn't speak. Just stare. He'd never spoken to her before. She'd never heard his voice. Oh, but he'd heard hers. He'd heard it a thousand times, and he cherished every singly one of the words she had spoken. Finally, he managed to swallow the organ in his throat and managed a some what feeble "Hello, Emily."

She turned her head, and smiled. "Hello. I'm dreaming. Have we met before?" She then went back to studying the nothingness in her dream, and occasionally muttered things like "So odd, yes this is odd."

Javert continued to stare at her for a moment, but finally spoke. "Yes, we have, but you might not remember."

She now gave him her full attention. "Really? Where?"

"We last saw each other last summer."

"What were we doing?"

"You were crying, I was getting put to sleep."

All the color drained from her face, and she closed her eyes and put a hand to her temple. "Yes, I'm dreaming," she confirmed. "Only it's a bad, horribly nightmare and I want out."

Javert bit his lip. "I can't let you out. Not yet. Just hear me out first."

"Oh, come on! I'm dreaming that my dead dog is not only alive but a human and talking to me! I don't like dreams like these; I want to wake up!"

"I can deny you nothing, you ought to know that by now, but I need you to listen to me."

She stared at him. "You can't be Cojack. Who are you?"

"My name's Javert."

"Proof!"

"But you called me Cojack."

"Not so much proof anymore....." She stared at him again, deeply in the eyes, until she thought she saw something that just might resemble her German Shepherd. "Why are you a human?"

"I always was. This is very hard to explain, and maybe, someday, I'll tell the entire story to you, but now I don't have the time. I need to ask a favor of you."

She threw her hands into the air. "Why not! I've dreamed about everything else tonight!"

"I need you to adopt my daughter."

"Well, I wasn't expecting the favor to be that weird....."

"No, you don't understand! She's a dog."

"Does she look like you?" the woman teased.

"I'm told she has my ears. The dog ones, that is."

She looked perturbed. "I was joking about that, you know."

"But I'm not. This is what I'm asking you to do. Whether you do or not, well...... that's up to you, but just listen: Tomorrow you'll wake up. You'll go to the same animal shelter you got me at, and you will find a dog. You will adopt her, and if you like, you can name her Brianna. The name's not important."

"How will I know her?"

Javert was silent for a moment, and just said "You'll know. Now I've got to go."

"Wait!"

He stopped.

"Will I get to see you again?"

His eyes lit up. "Would you like to see me again?"

"If you're really my dog, sure, why not."

Javert looked elated. "I'll see if I can come! Good night! Sweet dreams!"

And with that, he walked out of the dream, a dog once more, so happy that he was nearly walking on air, and the others had to hold his paws down to make sure he didn't defy gravity in his absolute joy.

...

When Emily Leroux got up the next morning, she was amazed at how vivid the dream had been, and what an odd dream it was, too! She had tried typing on her article, but found she simply couldn't. Something kept nagging at the back of her brain. She didn't really want to go to that animal shelter, did she?

Why not go, though? It'd been a year since she lost Cojack. Had she gotten over the grief? Did she think she could handle another dog? Why not?

So, she hopped in her car and drove down to the shelter. At first, for some insane reason, she was looking at the dog's ears. She soon laughed at herself, and looked at the dogs themselves. There were some nice border collies, Labradors, pit bulls....

And then she saw it. For a moment, she saw a coal black German Shepherd, it's yellow eyes flashing. Emily blinked, and the German Shepherd was gone. In it's place stood a creamy brown colored dog, her pointed ears looking remarkably like a German Shepherd's, her nose pointed finely like a Collie's, and she stared up in awe at Emily. And Emily knew:

This was the dog that Cojack wanted her to adopt.

Tensely, she reached her hand forward. The dog wagged her tail, and reached her own nose forward, sniffing the hand before licking it, the tail wagging furiously. Yes, this was the one.

...

"So, you're sure you're going to be alright?" Javert asked her in the lobby, able to see him without a miracle only because she'd been through the netherworld.

"Daddy, I'll be fine."

"You're sure?"

"For the twentieth time yes! Emily seems really nice."

"Oh, she is. You'll get along great," he affirmed, yet some what glumly. Brianna didn't notice.

"She's changed my name. She's going to call me Penny now."

"But you won't forget your original name?" he asked worriedly.

"The one my mother gave me? Never."

"So you don't think you'll start forgetting things again?"

"I know this is my own body, but it's basically brand new again! I don't think it has any problems at all!" she said with intense pride.

"If you're sure-"

"Daddy, just go catch up to the others. People are starting to stare at me funny."

"Well, you are pretty weird."

"Daddy!"

"Alright, alright, I'm going!" he sighed, and – thank goodness Brianna didn't notice him doing it – took one last longing look up at Emily before turning on his heels and left.

...

"So? How did it go?" asked Marius, as Javert walked out. The rest of the pack stood up and walked with him now towards the elevator to heaven. This was preferable to the stairs, since they were all exhausted.

"It went.... well. I think they'll be quite happy together."

The sound of a couple fighting drew their attention to the right. To they're surprise, it wasn't a human couple, but a dog couple.

"Aw, come on, Colette. You know I'm the only dog for you."

"You are an idiot, Maurice," the collie mix female said, walking away while the brown pit bull Maurice chased after her. Suddenly, she stopped, and stared right through the group of dogs. But that's when they realized she wasn't looking through them.

She was looking at them.

Valjean checked his feet. They were invisible. How could she see them? Javert was staring slack jawed right at her, as she stared at him.

"Mon Dieu..." Fantine breathed. "An old friend of yours, Monsieur?"

"Colette, what are you staring at?" Maurice then flew into a rage. "Is it another male? Point him out to me, I'll rip his head off."

"Maurice, a German Shepherd could take an idiot like you down before you could blink."

"So it is another male!"

"Correction, a toy poodle could do it."

"Wait, so is it a poodle, or a German Shepherd?"

"It's nobody, Maurice," and she began to coax him away, but she did turn to stare at Javert once more, but this time, she couldn't see him.

"We've still got one miracle left, if you want to use it, Javert."

Javert turned to stare at Valjean, having totally forgotten he was there. "Yes, actually, I would like to use it."

Valjean handed it to him, and Javert began a prayer that no one had expected. "May Emily's life be filled with happiness. My Jason treat her well. May all her days be blest..... Even if I'm not in them."

The miracle cooed and clucked, and finally blew away, to go and do his bidding.

"That was very good of you, Inspector," Cosette said. Javert scratched at his ear lazily, before yawning, and said nothing about his good deed.

"Let's just go home."

...

The elevator music was not really the kind to put you to sleep, but Javert was falling asleep anyway. Marius was humming to it, because it was one of his favorites, and Javert, interested if it was any good or not, perked his ear toward the speaker.

_My Legacy_

_Is a life of faith and love._

Javert speculated that that was true. His second life had been full of the stuff. And his second death was nothing short of ideal. Fantine was staring at him, and cried "Mon Dieu! It's the sign of the apocalypse! Monsieur Inspector, you are smiling!"

And he was smiling. Not the kind of smile he got when he'd arrested Valjean. This was a pure, true, happy smile.

_To share all I have_

_And the gift of one above_

Had he really shared anything? With Brianna – Penny – he had. He'd tried, at least. It still took Hell for her to appreciate that God was there, but it had happened. Given the choice, he'd do it all again. With a bing, the elevator stopped and it's doors opened. The five stepped out, and were immediately attacked by old Lutheran ladies.

"The Jell-O fest! I'd completely forgotten about it!" Valjean shouted merrily.

Hell had changed Javert, it was true. He'd never been so happy to be in heaven ever before, and he didn't mind eating pounds and pounds of that Banana Lime Surprise. When it was all over, he slumped against a wall, and found himself quite comfortable. Closing his eyes, he fell asleep, and decided the others were right: He was happy.

_What is your Legacy?_

_Will God say you've lived for me?_

_Will your life live on_

_In their hearts when you are gone?_

_Legacy......_

**A.N.: Well guys, I surprised even myself. I thought "There's no way I can possibly do another one of these. There's no way you can top hell. But I thought of a way! Be afraid, be very afraid. And be on the look out for the ghosties newest adventure: Your Refuge. **


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